


Moon piercings and sunny boys

by Crimsun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blink and you'll miss it cameos ft. Kun, Creative liberty with Yukhei's piercings, Fantasy, Implied Dowoo, Inspired by the shot of Haechan holding a camera, M/M, Mentions of a past abusive relationship of a secondary character, Mentions of some NCT members, Unrequited OT3-Norenmin, implied johnyong, implied nomin, with the text saying Chronicler in NCTmentary Ep3 Empathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 18:22:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimsun/pseuds/Crimsun
Summary: Donghyuck is a Chronicler who loves spending his time in an abandoned park and Yukhei is the boy with the moon piercings.





	Moon piercings and sunny boys

**Author's Note:**

> Hello world!
> 
> I know I have an ongoing fic now. Do not fret, I will update it soon. 
> 
> Anyway, this fic is in celebration for my username change from Titaniumrdx to Crimsun on AO3 and all social media platforms. It's been a long time coming and I wanted to make it special because it is also my birthday today and I thought, why not?
> 
> I listened to Who are you by Sam Kim and Untitled 2014 by G-Dragon while writing this. English is not my mother tongue. Proceed at your own risk. Anyway, I hope you like it.
> 
> Dedicated to my favorite sunflower in a field of millions.

“Donghyuck, I swear to God, put the fucking camera down!”

Renjun’s annoyed voice is music to Donghyuck’s ears as the boy repeatedly moves his legs up and down, waiting for his someone specials (yes, plural) to walk past the bench they regularly sit at.

Donghyuck whistles lowly, Renjun’s jaw dropping simultaneously at the boy jogging in front of them, his biceps prominent, and sheen of sweat covering the skin exposed by his tank top.

What?

They’re Chroniclers, sure, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t appreciate beauty when they get the chance to. They are relatively free today too, not that they have to do anything any day, to be honest.

See the world, that’s what Chroniclers are supposed to do. A Chronicler’s eyes, thus, are extremely powerful instruments, because imagine having shitty eyesight when your divine purpose is to _see_. They are supposed to keep memories; relics of the past, veiled truths, open secrets, tales of infinity and everything beyond(which Donghyuck knows isn’t even half of what he was instructed to store because Johnny had explained everything a thousand years ago and he doesn’t want to scour through his memories despite being a vessel of exactly that; memories).

So, what Donghyuck means to say is that, technically, all they have to do is walk around and see the world. It requires a bit of footwork but it’s not like it’s just one person going all around the world. This isn’t Around the World in Eighty Days or a remake or a spoof version or just anything related to the movie or any movies in general.

Donghyuck’s thoughts are composed of insanely long run-on sentences. If they make sense, people should be grateful but if they don’t, they should still be grateful because his existence itself is so unique it physically hurts him as he thinks this.

The world really doesn’t know, neither will they ever learn to treasure and appreciate the right things in life.

The sun is going down, evening settling in full swing, but the sky was already darker than usual. Taeil had already warned them that he was going to make it rain today.

Donghyuck closes the side screen of the camera and places it on the bench.

“Do you think they have an umbrella?”

Donghyuck snorts in response. Trust Renjun to think like a mortal.

“Now that you ask, I hope they don’t. Imagine Jeno running a hand through his wet hair. Injun, he’s so sexy!”

Renjun sputters and pushes Donghyuck so hard he almost falls off the bench. He stares at the small girl who trots as quickly as she can as her mother half drags her hurriedly, presumably in an attempt to escape the rain.

“Stop looking at my man like that! Also, Jaemin will look sexy too. I mean... he’s hot already, and cute. Like...”

Cue Renjun sighing dreamily and Donghyuck questioning his existence again.

Jeno and Jaemin are university students who are so in love with each other that Donghyuck’s teeth threaten to fall off whenever he sees them. They live fairly close in an apartment they share and on every weekday, without fail, the pair walks home together. Renjun had seen them together once and promptly fallen in love, leaving Donghyuck to bear all the dangers and irritation that came with having a lovesick Chronicler.

But he indulges him anyway. It’s not like they’ll ever see Renjun to even consider the possibility of falling in love with him. It’s sad in a way if you think about it.

It’s actually really sad once you think about it.

And Renjun thinks about it a lot. Donghyuck can tell because there are days when he reviews the footage on his camera with a certain Chronicler sobbing into his shoulder, whispering brokenly about a love that died before it was ever born, of a life that could never be. There are days when he tears up too because he knows that falling in love isn’t something that one can control and all he can do is pray that Renjun is able to move on before years pass like minutes in front of him, before he has to watch them die.

Donghyuck feels a drop of water fall on his cheek, another on his eyelash and then it’s pouring cats and dogs. He swears that he will push Taeil off the clouds when he gets the chance.

“Taeil hyung is such a liar. He said it was gonna rain, not that he was gonna make it storm so bad that the weather forecasts were gonna be proven wrong.”

Renjun groans.

“Nana has a test tomorrow. If he falls sick, I will castrate Taeil hyung, I swear!”

Donghyuck smiles and pats Renjun on the shoulder. The look of determination on his face doesn’t fade away.

“Look at you getting all bothered for your boys. My son has grown up so well.”

Donghyuck says, acting like he’s wiping tears from his eyes, fake sniffling because Donghyuck is a brat before he is a Chronicler.

This time, Renjun does succeed in pushing him off the bench but Donghyuck just laughs as he pats himself and gets up.

They sit in the rain, letting the cold seep into their souls, letting the water soak them to the core. Donghyuck would be worried about his camera but they aren’t earthly beings to worry about the elements. So, they sit there, in the cold, the water matting their hair and making their clothes cling to their bodies.

Just chilling in the rain like the superior beings they are, no worries.

It’s a little over ten minutes later when Donghyuck’s eyes fall on two very familiar silhouettes, almost looking like one from how close they stand, waddle together on the slippery path, holding a bright yellow umbrella. Jaemin slips but Jeno’s grip on his waist keeps him upright and the boy giggles as the white-haired male tells him off for not being careful.

“Your boys have an umbrella.”

Donghyuck says, gesturing his chin towards the pair, making Renjun straighten up to look at them. His hands have a mind of their own as they grab his beloved camera, water still dripping on it from the sky with a vengeance.

Jaemin leans in to kiss Jeno on the cheek and the boy smiles with his eyes in return, grip tightening around the other’s waist.

Donghyuck’s heart aches for some reason and he’s not even the one who is in love. He cannot possibly imagine Renjun’s condition.

Jaemin slips again and Jeno hisses, pulling them to a complete halt, eyebrows knitted together in concern. The rain pours down viciously on their umbrella, the drops scattering as they hit the yellow surface.

“It’s my shoelace.”

Jaemin says, wincing as he proceeds to bend down, Jeno stopping him with his hand. Donghyuck vaguely remembers Renjun telling him about Jaemin having to quit dance due to his back pain, something about a herniated disc.

Jeno passes the umbrella handle to Jaemin and bends down, a few drops from the rainwater hitting on the ground splattering on his already wet face, his eyes almost fully closed as he ties his boyfriend’s shoelace.

Donghyuck turns his head to look at Renjun. He isn’t exactly shocked but it unsettles him to see the same look as Jaemin’s on Renjun’s when he watches Jeno.

It’s after a long time in the past couple of centuries that Donghyuck wishes they were human.

He sighs.

When the pair becomes just two blurry dots in the rain, Renjun turns to him.

“They love each other so much.”

 _I love them so much._ is what Donghyuck hears.

Donghyuck wishes he didn’t know what Renjun meant.

Donghyuck bites back the flood of snarky remarks at the tip of his tongue and looks at Renjun, his best friend’s eyes particularly shining from something more than just the rain.

“They do.”

_You do._

It’s particularly hard that night as they lie on the roof of a flower-shop, the floor beneath their bodies still wet, a blend of petrichor and scents from a multitude of flowers wafting into their noses. Renjun doesn’t talk, staring at the starless sky with an impassive face. Donghyuck doesn’t review the reel he made from the day.

“Do you think it is this hard for Johnny hyung?”

Renjun asks, as the lights from the buildings nearby start to die down one by one, the veil of darkness and slowing time falling upon them.

“He’s just a thirsty hoe so I don’t think so.”

Renjun turns to him with a serious look, eyes wet and shimmery, a trail of water flowing from the tips of his eyes, begging him to give a proper answer.

“It is hard for him. He just doesn’t like showing it.”

Donghyuck corrects, eyes glancing at the one star which reveals itself as the clouds begin to clear out.

“I wish I could do that too.”

Renjun says, voice almost a whisper.

It’s a little later when Renjun finally stops crying in silence, a choked out puff of air shaping Donghyuck’s name all he needs to cuddle him close.

“Donghyuck, don’t fall in love, okay?”

Donghyuck nods against Renjun’s nape.

“Why would I ever when I have you, my Princess of China?”

Renjun tears up again.

“Not like that, idiot. Don’t fall in love. It hurts. Love hurts.”

Donghyuck’s arms tighten around Renjun’s fragile frame.

“Maybe it’s worth it.”

He says, voice sincere.

“You don’t understand. Maybe we’re not supposed to love. It feels like I’m drowning. I never want you to feel that way. Promise me.”

Donghyuck doesn’t need to think.

“Promise.”

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

“Donghyuck, you need to calm down. It’s just a year. We’ve been friends for centuries. It’s okay.”

Donghyuck shakes his head vehemently, still sending death glares towards Johnny, the tall man’s face unresponsive, unwilling to lose his cool over a young Chronicler throwing a tantrum.

“Look, Mr Seo “I’m the one in charge call me Johnny” Youngho, you can’t send him away. I swear I will go to sleep. I will fucking go to sleep!!”

Johnny snaps his head towards Renjun the moment he hears the word “sleep”.

Donghyuck would have smiled at being successful in actually scaring the man. It’s the biggest threat Donghyuck has in his quiver. It’s not something he uses often but desperate times call for desperate measures, and like he said, Chroniclers are made to see the world. If they fall asleep, the Head Chroniclers, like Johnny, are supposed to erase their existence.

Johnny could never kill Donghyuck. He almost feels a little bad for threatening his hyung with this but he cannot allow Renjun to be transferred away, not on his watch.

“Hyuck, it was me. I asked for this.”

Renjun’s eyes shine with tears and it takes a moment, but then everything falls into place. Johnny takes a step forward but Donghyuck stumbles back, away from the comfort the elder’s arms will offer him. He needs a minute before he lets himself go.

“You’re in love.”

Donghyuck states, not knowing why it sounds so heavy on the tip of his tongue. It isn’t a secret to anyone.

“I am and it hurts.”

Renjun’s voice cracks.

“You think leaving will make it better.”

Donghyuck says, understanding finally dawning fully.

“I am not sure but I want to try.”

Donghyuck nods, surprising even himself as his legs take him to Renjun on their own, hands going around the sobbing boy in a tight hug.

“I’ll miss you but I understand. I know it hurts but you’ll be fine.”

In the conversation that follows, Donghyuck listens with a broken heart as Renjun tells him he’s going to stay longer in China if he cannot cope. Donghyuck puts his best poker face on, even if he knows Renjun will see right through his facade.

Johnny doesn’t contribute much, sitting plain-faced, eyes resolutely staring at the clock on the wall, as if reminding them that time is running out.

It’s Kun who comes to get Renjun. Johnny welcomes the man inside but he doesn’t stay for long, barely anything more than pleasantries exchanged between them before he vanishes into thin air, his hands tightly looped with Renjun’s.

“Donghyuck.”

Johnny says, several minutes later and for the first time in 78 years, Donghyuck cries, his body engulfed in the other Chronicler’s comforting arms.

He knows Renjun will return but what Donghyuck knows for sure is that one year isn’t going to be enough.

A part of him wishes that Renjun doesn’t return until the people he loves die because he doesn’t want his best friend to watch them wither away. Human bodies are so fickle; their souls are so transient after all. He doesn’t want him to go through what Johnny had to witness nearly eight decades ago, a bloody and bruised body all that was left of his beloved, the head Chronicler standing helpless as his attackers beat the fragile body of the one he loved from a distance, to death.

“Hyung, do you think... do you think he’ll ever learn to move on?”

Johnny’s silence is answer enough. His hyung had never moved on, after all.

Donghyuck doesn’t want to fall in love. He doesn’t want to hurt like them. He doesn’t want to know what loving someone who will never see him feels like. He doesn’t want to be the one who watches as they slowly fade away like the flowers as the season shifts from summer to autumn.

Don’t fall in love, Donghyuck, he thinks.

Johnny holds him tighter as if praying for the same for him.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck likes the sea and parks best.

On the beach, he likes how the sun shines right down on him, the waves rolling softly near his ankles, the sand under him setting him in stagnant motion where he feels like he is drifting but is actually rooted in the same spot. He likes the way he can hear the swishing and fluttering sounds of the seagulls as they fly atop his head, how he can taste salt on the tip of his tongue and smell it in the air, how the waves hitting the rocks sounds like voices of a prophecy of time, how hot it is in the day and cold it is in the night.

The sea, Donghyuck thinks, is a perfect paradigm for everything on the Earth, living and non-living. People, things, places, everything. They’re all dichotomies; warm, optimistic, happy and excited like the day and freezing, desolate and inactive like the night.

The Chronicler loves all of creation for he was made to see them, and he shall forever remain in love with all of it.

Donghyuck hasn’t visited the beach in a while. Instead, his free time was utilized to watch his best friend’s feelings grow from a sapling to a tree with its branches threatening to grow out of his chest.

Donghyuck skips over a stone and reminds himself to ask Johnny if they could go to the beach soon.

For the past few years, he hasn’t been able to visit his much-adored abandoned park too. With Renjun gone, he can already tell that the park, technically a no-man’s land, was about to become his sanctuary.

He jumps over the fence because he doesn’t want to bother with the gate, and also just because he can.

He catches a couple making out aggressively on one of the wooden benches, creepers and climbers covering it in an aesthetically pleasing manner or not, all puns intended.

Donghyuck grimaces at the way the girl attempts, maybe even succeeds, in shoving her tongue down her partner’s throat. He would feel terrible for the guy had he not seen the way he spurs her on with a hand squeezing her thigh.

One would think that people would choose their homes over a weed-covered bench in a deserted park.

Maybe it’s the trees which surround them or maybe it’s the trellis which is pretty much opaque with all the greenery covering it, these maybe the reasons, he hypothesizes, for the couple choosing this as their spot.

To each their own, he supposes.

He walks forward, hands tucked deep into the confines of his jacket’s pockets.

He hears the girl moan loudly and contemplates coming back later because his poor virgin eyes can only take so much, but just as he turns to retreat, a phone rings, a catchy ringtone he recognizes as a girl group track filling the silence.

Red Velvet, nice taste, he thinks as the girl scrambles up, lying to her dad about how she’s studying in the library with her best friend.

He snorts at the lie.

He snorts again when the girl throws her shoes on the guy’s chest before walking away(not before collecting them), accusing him of taking advantage of her during her finals, leaving the poor guy gaping in shock.

He is in a good mood as he sits down on the bench he has rightfully claimed as his a decade ago. As much as he loves humans, he also finds the way they succeed in making a complete fool out of themselves interesting, and hilarious, the latter more than the former.

The pond which used to be home to several ducks and fishes lies lifeless, as still as a broken watch frozen in time. Donghyuck’s eyes scan over the rest of the park. Not much has changed, he observes, except for the obvious growth in greenery.

He stares at the pink flowers on the trellis and inhales the scent of the rain. It is calming.

What ruins the calm is the tell-tale sound of an intruder.

A very tall, handsome intruder sporting a long sleeved t-shirt and black jeans opens the knee-high gate to enter the park, walking awkwardly as he tries to not kill all the plants in his way to the benches. The boy’s hair is a little long, enough to make Donghyuck want to recommend a visit to the salon. It’s dyed light-brown, so light it’s almost blonde but his black roots are prominent.

For a second, the boy looks straight at him, ducking his head immediately as he walks with a sense of certainty to a bench Donghyuck presumes has become his usual. Donghyuck laughs at the little sliver of doubt that creeps inside him.

Of course, he can’t see you, Donghyuck. You’re a Chronicler.

He also feels annoyance ruffle his feathers as he realizes that he hadn’t even left the place alone for two years and suddenly there are cute boys coming to think about life and girls who can’t even own up to their mistakes coming to make out.

But since he’s a divine being, extremely superior too, mind you, he cannot help but think that he may be a little more than just okay at the cute boy part.

Donghyuck has always liked people-watching. There’s nothing wrong with applying the same technique in an abandoned park to a single person, he convinces himself. Not that he had any qualms in the first place.

Donghyuck draws his gaze away to the trellis when a sparrow comes to sit on it. When the bird flies away, its little wings fluttering with intent, something glimmers in his peripheral vision.

He turns and it’s the boy’s piercings. He squints for show. The boy has three piercings on the side that is visible to Donghyuck, a silver moon on his lobe, a captive bead ring on his helix and a stud.

They suit him. In fact, if Donghyuck wasn’t so stingy with compliments, he would say that it makes him look hot but since he is a marveller of beauty only at heart and not outside, he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like the boy will hear him even if he were to throw a compliment.

He fidgets a little, eyes flicking to the boy, the pond, the gate, the trellis and back again.

Every time it is the crescent moon piercing that stands out to him. He can’t help but wonder if the boy has one on his other ear too.

Why should he stress himself out when he can just go and see?

So Donghyuck does exactly that.

He stands near the bench, one eyebrow raising at the way the boy tenses but continues to look at the pond. He sits down on the bench, a comfortable distance between them.

Much to his delight, there is the exact same piercing in his ear as well as three studs in a row on the cartilage.

“You’re not subtle.”

The boy says and Donghyuck shrieks, scrambling back in horror.

He holds out a placating hand, the boy’s eyes blown wide.

“Hold on, you can see me?”

The boy gives him a look of confusion as if that was the last question he expected to hear from his mouth.

“Do you want me to lie and say that “hey, the invisibility cloak works, I can’t see you?”

Donghyuck stands still for a moment, processing this unique incident where this stranger can somehow see him despite being a mortal.

“Oh dude, I was just fucking with you.”

Donghyuck says, partly because he doesn’t want people to think the park is haunted and partly because he feels like he can breathe for once. He might also be impressed by the Potter reference.

He is not invisible to a human.

Imagine that.

The boy laughs, his deep voice a bit too loud, tired eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Nice one. You nearly had me there for a second. I’m Yukhei.”

Yukhei says, hand outstretched. Donghyuck almost gasps as he makes contact with the other’s skin, his temperature running a lot warmer than Johnny and Renjun.

“Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck says, trying to make his voice sound a little deeper because he feels like his ego takes a beating every time Yukhei opens his mouth (even though he only talked like twice but who’s counting anyway). He fails at it but he tried.

“Were you like... checking me out?”

Yukhei asks as they settle down on the bench, a bit closer than before but a respectable distance between them still, a smug smirk on his face. Donghyuck snorts at the question.

Perhaps he had met his match in terms of self-appreciation after all.

“You wish.”

Donghyuck says, watching the way Yukhei groans in disappointment.

“Then why were you looking at me?”

Donghyuck hears a whine make an appearance in Yukhei’s voice and he immediately knows that the other boy is a clinger, and that he’s going to be a pain to let go of.

He also questions why he is so chill with Yukhei’s ability to see him and talk to him. He should be running back home and asking Johnny about this but he doesn’t want to. A part of him pleads not to.

What if they try to take this away?

Donghyuck wants to see how far this goes. He wants to know what it’s like to forge a friendship with a mortal.

For science, he thinks.

Perhaps, Twitter isn’t a good influence, he concludes.

“Your piercings. They’re cool. I was looking at them.”

Donghyuck says, feeling his face heat up for some reason. Yukhei self-consciously grabs his ears, a hint of red finding its way to his face.

At least, Donghyuck is not alone.

“Thanks,” Yukhei says, awkwardly pausing, eyes glancing at Donghyuck once again before he turns completely to face him, “I’ve never seen you around before. Are you new here?”

Yukhei’s eyes are red-rimmed but they are also extremely sincere, and a part of Donghyuck wants to sass his way out of the question but instead, he lies.

“Yeah, I just moved in with my dad. I was living with my mom. Bad marriage, you know?”

He sputters through the lie as his brain screams at him to get it together. Inner Renjun cackles at him like the real one does every time Donghyuck meets Reaper Mark and turns into a bumbling mess.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Are you in high school? Uni?”

Donghyuck facepalms at the series of lies that will have to be inevitably formulated to give his backstory substance.

“I just graduated from high school. I’m taking a break before I join uni.”

Yukhei nods understandingly.

“What about you?”

Donghyuck asks, mostly because he wants to know but also because he doesn’t want Yukhei to attack him with back-to-back questions.

“I’m a sophomore. Here’s a fun game. Guess my major.”

Donghyuck can easily figure out every single detail in Yukhei’s life but that’s not how mortals work and Donghyuck wants to do this the human way.

“Dance? Architecture? Economics?”

Donghyuck offers, bracing himself to be proven wrong.

“Wow! You got it right. I’m an Economics major.”

Yukhei smiles widely. Donghyuck wants to ask him to stop grinning like a loon with his perfect teeth but the boy looks beat for some reason when he isn’t smiling and Donghyuck isn’t that much of an asshole.

He is, but at this moment for this giant seated next to him, he isn’t.

“I knew I would get it right. Did you know that Conan Doyle contacted me when he was writing Sherlock Holmes? Holmes is a spitting image of me, don’t you think?”

Donghyuck isn’t fully lying. He may not have been the inspiration behind the greatest detective of all time but if he rewinds the reels of his eyes, he can still see the way Doyle hunched over his desk, can still hear the other’s stubby but long fingers tapping away hurriedly on his Underwood number 5.

Yukhei snorts.

“Sure. Sure. Of course, I see it.”

Donghyuck doesn’t quite like the way the other’s face seems to get stuck in this smug state but he tolerates it. Inner Renjun tells him that it is because he doesn’t like when people have comebacks for his witty retorts.

Inner Renjun, bro, you right.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here at 5 on a Sunday? Don’t you have like uni shit to do?”

Yukhei smiles smugly again and Donghyuck immediately knows that he’s going to say something embarrassing.

“Don’t you mean, “Why is such a fine young man like you lounging around in this shitty place?”

Donghyuck groans loudly making Yukhei cackle, a broken but high-pitched laughter escaping him.

“Do you go to church, Yukhei?”

Yukhei shakes his head in denial, a few stray laughs still escaping him.

“I can see that,” Donghyuck mumbles, “You didn’t answer me yet though.”

“I come here on most evenings actually. We moved here when my dad got a transfer and I had trouble with Korean so I didn’t have many friends, so I used to come here to clear my head. It became a habit, I guess?”

Yukhei says, left hand rubbing the back of his neck. Donghyuck feels like the other is hiding something else from him, something that is the reason behind why he looks so haggard despite being all smiley and excited but he doesn’t prod.

“That makes sense.”

Donghyuck says, humming in approval.

They don’t talk for a few minutes after, choosing to bask in the beautiful moments that a comfortable silence brings. Donghyuck thinks that it is nice to hear someone breathing, not because they have a choice like the Chroniclers, but because they have to.

Humans are so delicate; so wonderfully delicate.

They talk about a few more things regarding careers and families but nothing too deep. The more they talk, the easier it gets for Donghyuck to lie to Yukhei but at the same time, the urge in him to blend lies with truths so that he’s not completely lying takes over.

Yukhei looks like someone who values honesty and Donghyuck tries with all his might to twist the lies in such a way that it isn’t as much a lie anymore, just a distorted version of the truth; an earthly version of a Chronicler’s truth.

“Can I have your phone number?”

Yukhei asks, taking his phone out of his pocket and Donghyuck panics. Sure, he has a phone but it’s just something he has created with some spirit energy. It’s not like there’s a SIM inside for Yukhei to call and text. It’s a phone but it doesn’t have a number. So there.

“I don’t give my number on the first date.”

He says instead, not even sure of the other’s sexuality and crossing his fingers that the other isn’t someone who preaches heterosexuality.

Yukhei blushes like a tomato before he recovers. Donghyuck is almost impressed. Also, the way the boy doesn’t even flinch at the obvious hint makes Donghyuck want to hurry to the clouds to ask Taeil for a rainbow.

“If your idea of a first date is sitting in a dilapidated park, then I’m afraid your standards are too low.”

Donghyuck snorts and pushes the boy with his hand, surprising even himself.

Yukhei freezes for a second too but laughs right after, continuing like he never stopped.

“So, sunshine, your number?”

He asks again, a swoon on his face and eyebrow raised cockily.

Donghyuck controls the blush that threatens to spread on his face at the nickname.

“I don’t have a phone.”

He says. Yukhei raises an eyebrow.

Donghyuck shrugs.

“Hold on, you aren’t kidding.”

Donghyuck nods.

“Oh, that’s... uh... disappointing?”

Yukhei leaves the word hanging in the air for a few minutes.

What breaks the silence is the unmistakable sound of a notification. Yukhei turns his phone over and frowns before he gets up in a hurry.

“I have to go. I’ll see you later?”

The statement is phrased like a question and Donghyuck knows that he can reject it and Yukhei wouldn’t mess with him but he doesn’t want to, so he nods.

The boy smiles happily but there’s still something which is causing him to be jittery and Donghyuck waves him away.

He backtracks with a smile, both hands waving at him and it makes Donghyuck smile just as wide, maybe even giggle a little at the boy.

Yukhei clutches his chest dramatically at Donghyuck as he giggles and Donghyuck looks down, pretending to look at the ground for something to throw at the towering boy.

Yukhei finally turns around at that. He walks to the entrance at a fast pace and then full on sprints to the side. Seconds later, Yukhei whizzes past the park on a bike, his hair flying in the wind, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere but he waves single-handedly at Donghyuck anyway.

The Chronicler waves back.

Maybe coming back here wasn’t a bad idea.

Famous last words, inner Renjun breathes out between fits of laughter.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck returns to the park the day after and waits for Yukhei, cursing Taeil again for the heavy rain which has made the roads wet and dangerously slippery. He crosses his fingers and hopes that Yukhei isn’t idiotic enough to ride a bike in this weather.

However, it just so happens that he proves Donghyuck wrong because Yukhei doesn’t come that day.

Not the day after or the day after that.

As the days pass and complete a week, time going too slow for Donghyuck’s liking, his insides clench a bit because maybe, he had been the only one who was excited to meet up again. Maybe the other boy had forgotten about him the moment he left.

Maybe human minds aren’t programmed to remember Chroniclers.

Donghyuck, however, cannot seem to push away memories of the hopeful look on Yukhei’s face when he asked if he would see him later.

If he doesn’t remember Donghyuck, then, well... What a waste of time!

Something in his existence, something in his body modelled like a human’s but so much different in so many ways, that _something_ asks him to hold on for a little longer.

So Donghyuck does because it’s not every day that you meet a tall boy with a smile that splits his face in two.

He waits because it’s not every day that you meet a human who can see and touch a Chronicler like him.

He waits because he wants Yukhei to be his friend.

He waits because this is the closest he’s ever been to a human and it feels good. Those two hours were perhaps one of the best one twenty minutes(or more) he had spent with anyone and if coming from Donghyuck that doesn’t mean something, he doesn’t know what does.

And nine days later, on a particularly rain-less evening, Yukhei fulfils the promise he never made. He comes with sparkling eyes and a swollen face and smiles like he has conquered the world. Donghyuck notices the way his entire demeanour screams excitement even though the traces of exhaustion are still there.

Yukhei waves at him and opens the gate, one hand on the handle of his bike, little neon stickers of different colours stuck to it messily. He half-lifts the bike inside and puts it on stand, closing the gate with his other foot.

Donghyuck doesn’t wave until Yukhei is just a few feet away.

“Did you decide to join Pinterest or something?”

Donghyuck asks as Yukhei finally sits down next to him, smile still fixed on his face.

“Pinterest? Why?”

He asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“The stickers.”

Donghyuck says, pointing at the stickers on the bike. Even the rim is painted with neon colours and Donghyuck being a red supremacist never thought he’d say this but it looks super cool and stylish.

More than all that, it fits Yukhei’s personality.

Glow in the dark.

Yukhei hums in understanding.

“My neighbour’s kid had this neon phase when I bought the bike a few months ago and I let them decorate it. I didn’t know he’d call his best friend and two freshmen from my college to help but I’m weak in front of kids.”

Donghyuck smiles, not only because holy shit that’s adorable but also because it sounds exactly like something he would bet money on that Yukhei would do. He probably baked them cookies and played basketball with them after they were done.

He has known the boy for literally a few hours and he’s already a pro at this guessing game. It warms the frozen lake of monotony inside his chronicling heart.

“Did you miss me?”

Yukhei asks, leaning back on the bench’s backrest.

Donghyuck snorts and plays ignorant.

“You wish. I didn’t even notice.”

Yukhei’s smile fades away so fast that he almost says that he is kidding but he doesn’t because then, Yukhei smiles, less bright but like he isn’t surprised. Donghyuck wishes he was eloquent and hopes that Yukhei understood that he was just joking.

“That hurts my heart, Donghyuck,” he clutches his heart again like he did when Donghyuck giggled, “But I don’t expect anything else. I have always been a soul deprived of love and affection.”

Yukhei fake sniffles to make it more dramatic and Donghyuck laughs, hitting him on the shoulder with one hand, making the other boy wince in pretend-pain.

“You shouldn’t expect anything else. I’m an asshole.”

Donghyuck says, one leg bent over his other leg as he sits to face Yukhei properly.

Yukhei nods solemnly.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Donghyuck groans and hits him again.

“Ouch, Garfield, get your claws off of me!” Yukhei yells, eyes wide and hand rubbing his bicep which is sporting a thin line of red from Donghyuck’s untrimmed nails.

Donghyuck meows like a cat making Yukhei laugh out loud.

“I will if you stop barking bullshit, Wong puppy!”

Donghyuck meows at the end for good measure. Yukhei laughs again.

“Anyway, name calling aside, where were you?”

Yukhei’s smile fades completely before the ends of his lips curve up slowly in a small smile.

“I was with my best friend. He needed some help.”

Donghyuck knows that Yukhei isn’t opening up but he decides against asking more on the topic because the smile, no matter how thin is, is a clear sign that somehow some solution has been found for whatever problem there was and knowing that is enough for him.

Donghyuck hums, nodding.

And just like that, it’s back to where they left off the other day, Yukhei going on and on about a dance workshop in college which he really wants to join, and the two papers he has to write for his major, and how he broke his mom’s favourite plate in the morning and cried because it was the only thing his mother had of her mother. Donghyuck’s heart clenches painfully at the way Yukhei’s lips turn to a frown when he talks about the plate incident, doing a complete one-eighty from when he was trash talking his professor.

In return, Donghyuck talks about how his best friend moved to China two weeks ago and how his dad is a clockmaker but has to travel often and how he’s mostly lonely because of that.

Yukhei listens so patiently and attentively that Donghyuck almost tells him the truth but stops himself at the last moment. It’s scary how easy it is to talk to Yukhei. Donghyuck wonders if friendships between humans are this easy because rarely has he seen humans click like this and it’s fascinating.

Yukhei leaves when the night falls, a few hours after the streetlights blink to life. It’s Donghyuck who reminds him of his papers and pushes him off the bench so that he can get home and get his work done.

Donghyuck makes a show of walking in the opposite direction of where the boy stands with his bike, waving away the other’s offers to walk him home by saying that his father doesn’t like it. Donghyuck likes seeing Yukhei’s shoulders slump because it shows him he cares and his heart thuds faster in response.

Yukhei waits underneath the streetlight, its luminescence making the other’s tan skin glow and it reminds Donghyuck of the most beautiful of Light’s apprentices. He sighs.

Yukhei doesn’t ride away until Donghyuck is completely out of sight.

Donghyuck walks back to the park slowly that night, thanking the Gods for the park’s desertion because he knows that it would have been weird for mortals to see a tall boy waving at thin air with a wide grin on his face. He’s also grateful that Yukhei is saved from the ridicule that will befall him if he is ever caught in such a scenario because the truth is that other mortals still cannot see Donghyuck and, Wong Yukhei, for some reason, is the only exception.

Donghyuck lies on the roof of the flower shop that night. The star he sees every day is not alone for once because there’s one right next to it.

Donghyuck’s chest feels full with euphoria and tendrils of a feeling forbidden by a promise.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

“What is that?”

Yukhei looks at him with a confused expression.

“My bag?”

Yukhei answers, uncertain.

“Oh, I didn’t know, Mr Wong.” Donghyuck says monotonously. Yukhei tilts his head like a puppy. Donghyuck really needs to stop stalking pets in the neighbourhood but he’s seen the canine species shift from aggressors to the softest fluffy creatures and he’s weak.

“Why did you bring that here?” He finally asks when Yukhei settles down next to him, forcing his thoughts away from making puppy comparisons.

“Ask the right questions, Mr Garfield. Your grammar is terrible.” Yukhei clicks his tongue as he wags a finger in the air with a smirk, poking Donghyuck in the nose with it.

Donghyuck glares at him and Yukhei exhales heavily.

“I thought that I can spend more time here if I just brought my books too because most days you push me to go back home.”

Got you, Wong Yukhei, Donghyuck thinks with amusement.

“How dare you contaminate this holy place of all things lazy and fun with those abominations called books?”

Donghyuck shrieks, pushing away the bag with his hands like they physically offend him but taking care to not let it push his camera off the edge.

“Uh, Donghyuck, I need to pass this test that’s going to happen tomorrow and I find it really hard to concentrate when my head keeps saying that I could have spent a little more time with you if I didn’t leave these abominations,” Yukhei emphasizes the word with air quotes, “at home.”

That’s really thoughtful... and cute, Donghyuck thinks, with a blush rising high on his face. They’ve been seeing each other on most weekdays for about two months and now that Donghyuck thinks about it, he really questions about how long Yukhei contemplated this before finally just doing it.

Yukhei scratches his head nervously and clears his throat.

“You’re no fun. But your head is right though I thought you’d play along by giving me points about your shitty Economics professor and the cons of the university system. You disappoint me, Wong Yukhei.”

Donghyuck says, shaking his head in feigned solemnity. Yukhei suddenly gets up from the bench and kneels in front of him. Donghyuck’s heart races, pulling a gasp from his mouth.

“I’m sorry for disappointing you-,” Yukhei trails off, eyes sincere as he looks at Donghyuck before mischief fills the sparkling chestnut brown orbs, “- my bratty Queen,” he finishes, getting up from the ground and running around the park as Donghyuck calls him all the possible names he has ever heard in his life as a Chronicler.

When they’re done chasing each other around the park, Donghyuck calling truce when a boy walks past the park, they settle down on the bench, Yukhei’s chest heaving for real, Donghyuck mimicking the movement to not raise suspicion.

“Donghyuck, Greg isn’t even an insult.”

Donghyuck levels a glare at the boy.

“Them eyes though! Fire!” Yukhei hollers and exclaims making Donghyuck’s glare lose its fierceness.

“Study, you giant,” Donghyuck says and he wants to keep the fondness out of his voice but he can’t.

Contrary to popular belief, Yukhei is extremely quiet when he studies. He hates that the other boy has to hunch and sacrifice his neck’s well-being for spending time with him but if he were Yukhei, he would do it too. It’s not every day that you meet the literal sun in an abandoned park. But jokes aside, the other boy is too tall for this and Donghyuck tells him so a couple of times but Yukhei shakes it off, resolutely stubborn.

The other boy’s phone goes off a couple of times but he checks it and shoves it back in his jeans. In the two months Donghyuck has known Yukhei, he knows that the taller only replies when it is someone called Jungwoo. He hears the name in passing in their conversations too, Yukhei always back-tracking or stuttering over it, like he doesn’t want Donghyuck to know about this person, whoever it is. He leaves early on days he messages too.

Whenever Yukhei is late, it’s always because of a friend but Donghyuck never questions him because something inside him tells him that he’ll talk to him, in time.

The streetlights provide enough illumination for the other boy to study and Donghyuck looks at the watch on his wrist, a gift from Johnny. It says that it’s a quarter past nine. He’s been deprived of conversation for the past four hours with the only attention the other gave him being smug glances and small smiles.

It’s selfish but Donghyuck can’t help but wish that Yukhei was a little unfocused. Donghyuck shifts a little closer and sneaks a look at the other’s book. The other boy snorts.

“At this point, you’re not human to me, you’re a cat.”

He comments with a smile, the first real sentence in hours excluding economics bullshit, not looking at Donghyuck as he flips the page.

Donghyuck sits like a disappointed child, drawing his knees to his chest and he meows for good measure. Yukhei flips another page and rakes his gaze down.

Then, he closes it.

For a moment, it’s silent. Then, Yukhei turns to him and twists his hand into paws.

“Woof!”

He barks and Donghyuck giggles.

His chest threatens to explode into a million pieces and a promise he made to Renjun and to himself claws its way up his throat but he ignores it.

When Donghyuck walks to his home that night, he turns his head to look at Yukhei and waves once again, the other boy’s smile ever-present on his face, one hand waving back and the other holding the handle of his bike. The streetlight flickers, casting light intermittently on the boy, the hard edges and soft curves of his face lighting up and disappearing alternately. What leaves Donghyuck restless the rest of the night is how he is able to picture every small detail of the other boy’s face even when the light flickered to darkness.

Donghyuck has seen a billion faces, belonging to a billion mortals. He has seen a thousand Divines.

But it is for the first time that someone’s smile plays on the screens of his shut lids without any prompting from himself and Donghyuck rips his eyes open.

He cannot sleep. Especially now that he has a tall boy who has an obsession with track pants and hoodies who expects him to be there in his park, waiting for him.

No.

Their park, he corrects himself.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

A month passes and then, another.

Donghyuck is happier than ever, God forbid, but for some reason, he feels something in the air and it doesn’t sound any good to his ancient ears. He even considers finally coming clean to Johnny about it so that he can get a Seer and ask him for a reading but he backs out in the last moment.

He doesn’t have to wait long with nerve-wracking anticipation because the moment Yukhei limps to the park past eight o’clock on a weekday with a busted lip and bloody nose, he knows that this is it.

“Yukhei! Oh my God! What happened?”

Donghyuck puts the camera on the bench and gets up, sprinting to the taller boy, the other refusing to meet his eyes, resolutely staring at the ground but still steadily walking forward. He thanks the Creator for his gifted eyesight because the street lights are casting shadows on the other’s face due to the angle and it would have been virtually impossible to see the other’s face from the bench.

Donghyuck puts a hand around the other’s waist and puts one of Yukhei’s arms around his shoulder to support him on his trek to the bench. He frames the boy’s face in his hands and looks into his red-rimmed eyes; it reminds Donghyuck of their first meeting.

It’s the look of a boy whose tears have dried, Donghyuck realizes.

“Yukhei, please tell me what happened,” Donghyuck asks softly, his left thumb caressing the side of Yukhei’s face and his right hand gently smoothing his hair back.

“He hit Jungwoo hyung. Again.”

Donghyuck doesn’t know who the implied “he” is, neither does he know Jungwoo except for times when he sneakily glanced at Yukhei’s phone or from the rants of the taller boy himself.

What he does know is that Yukhei’s tone, anger and defeat barely concealed in it is enough for him to figure out the context.

“Why did he hit him?”

Donghyuck asks, hands still smoothing his hair back and eyes scanning his face. He hopes he doesn’t sound patronizing.

Yukhei snaps out of the reverie he is in and drops his head on Donghyuck’s shoulder, silently crying, tears soaking through Donghyuck’s burgundy t-shirt. It takes a second for Donghyuck to respond but he gathers the other in his arms and runs his fingers through his hair, Yukhei’s arms almost squeezing him to death with how tight they are around his torso. Donghyuck lets him because something tells him that Yukhei _needs_ this and Donghyuck isn’t one to reject the only mortal friend he has, the comfort he can provide.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for never... for never telling you. I just couldn’t, Hyuck. You were my escape from staying on guard all the time and I didn’t wanna lose that. I’m sorry.”

Yukhei says against the sensitive skin of Donghyuck’s neck and Donghyuck feels tears well up in his eyes at his words.

It feels so intimate but Donghyuck isn’t selfish enough to let the intimacy of the moment overpower Yukhei’s pain.

“It’s okay,” He whispers against the other’s ear, “hush, hush, Yukhei, it’s okay. It’s okay. I understand.”

Yukhei makes no sign to pull away and Donghyuck wishes that his arms were longer so that he could completely envelop the other but it’s not, and so he deals because a Chronicler is only supposed to _see_.

Donghyuck feels the scent of iron cloud his senses and there are a million questions at the tip of his tongue, so he regretfully pulls away, reaching into his pocket to get his handkerchief which was not there five seconds ago and delicately dabs at the cut on Yukhei’s lip. His face is bruised badly, red bruises prominent and starting to swell.

It’s bad enough that it is hard to recognize him but Donghyuck would know this boy in every realm, every universe.

Donghyuck keeps the handkerchief in his hand and looks at Yukhei’s face again. It still looks like a battleground but he counts the dried blood under his nose, a sign that his nose has stopped bleeding, as a win.

“Talk to me, Yukhei. I’m here. I’ll listen,” Donghyuck says because he knows that the tall boy would never have limped all the way to a deserted park if he had no intentions of opening up to him.

Yukhei looks at him with a blank look for a moment too long, Donghyuck almost repealing the offer because the last thing he wants is to force the other into this conversation but then Yukhei nods, a barely there movement and talks, his voice cracking and airy and angry and disappointed and raging and despondent and so many different variations of all of these emotions and revealing so much at the same time.

Yukhei chokes out a story about a boy with a too soft face and a kind smile who reached out to an awkward boy who didn’t know a word of Korean in middle school, about how the same boy despite being only one year older than him stayed by his side and defended him when he didn’t even understand the cuss words being thrown at him, about how kind boy cried when he came out to awkward boy as gay, about how awkward boy loved kind boy like the brother he never had any way.

Yukhei goes on about how kind boy remained kind and awkward boy remained awkward, about how kind boy soon fell in love with lover boy, about how awkward boy never liked lover boy because he never treated kind boy right, about how watching kind boy cry with his knees tucked close to his chest felt like the worst punishment ever for the awkward boy, about how observing bruises form on the other’s wrists and all over his body but never working up the courage to speak up felt like betrayal to awkward boy, about how one day a year later kind boy tried to break up with lover boy, about awkward boy threatening lover boy but stopping at seeing more bruises forming on kind boy’s soft, soft skin, about kind boy finally ending up in the hospital because of lover boy just about four months ago which landed lover boy in jail, about how four months later on a weekday awkward boy stumbles into the kind boy’s house to find him bleeding on the floor, a broken vase nearby and his favourite painting torn to bits, about how awkward boy sees lover boy, the cruellest monster of all, watch kind boy bleeding out, about how awkward boy couldn’t take it anymore and went wild.

Yukhei talks about how kind boy is Jungwoo and awkward boy, Yukhei.

“But it’s over. He’s not coming anywhere near my hyung. I will move away with him, Donghyuck. I’ll run forever if that’s what it takes to keep him safe,” Yukhei sighs, “Jungwoo hyung is in the hospital but he’s fine.”

“It’s finally over,” Yukhei breathes in relief.

Donghyuck’s tears roll freely down his cheeks and he finds himself hugging the other boy, wanting nothing more than to turn back time, to go see the kind boy and tell him that he wishes him a good life because he deserves it.

He feels shattered in a million ways, yet so stunned at the way Yukhei still exudes hope, still believes that it’s okay now that it’s over.

Human resilience is such a mystery to Donghyuck. He has seen a hundred million people pull each other back up like nothing terrible has happened to them even when they were sitting with their legs in the grave yet nothing has quite touched Donghyuck’s ancient soul like Yukhei’s. He wonders if his opinions could have changed years ago if he was allowed to know a mortal like he knows Yukhei.

Donghyuck notes down a mental reminder to never question why the Creator loves humans best. Even with all their flaws and their bouts of insanity, Donghyuck sees the appeal and longing fills his chest.

Donghyuck offers to walk with Yukhei to his home, careless for one day because he needs to make sure the other is okay and also because he knows that the other needs someone near him for tonight.

Donghyuck counts it as Fate when Yukhei tells him that his parents are not at home. He thanks Taeyong for the little twist and walks with the taller boy in silence, faces still teary, hands in their pockets, grateful for the rain that set in early which has resulted in the streets being deserted.

Donghyuck lies that his father is not home.

Yukhei’s home is not far away. Donghyuck has lounged in the porch on one too many nights when he found himself roaming aimlessly in the middle of the night. It’s standard-stalker behaviour but Donghyuck is a Chronicler so “stalk” is pretty much synonymous with “see” and that’s all that matters.

Yukhei grabs him by his wrist and pulls him upstairs, still limping but not crying anymore.

Donghyuck follows without protest, stepping into Yukhei’s room with neon stickers spelling out his name glowing in the dark. Yukhei gropes the wall for the light switch and flips it on, revealing a messy room, the walls filled with posters ranging from hip hop to alternative artists to anime ones.

What catches Donghyuck’s eyes is the wall composed of polaroids only, some with an older woman Donghyuck assumes is Yukhei’s mother, some with an older man who looks like a grown-up version of Yukhei but most of it is filled with polaroids of a boy with a kind smile and soft look in his eyes. Donghyuck doesn’t even need a full second to figure out that it is Jungwoo.

“I need to go see Jungwoo hyung. Do you think I should go now?”

Donghyuck turns his head and hums.

“He might be resting now. Maybe you can see him in the morning when he’s awake? I’ll wake you up early.”

Yukhei still seems unsure so Donghyuck makes him call up the other’s mother.

“He’s sleeping.”

Yukhei says. He stands next to his bed and runs a hand through his hair.

“He can finally sleep in peace.”

Donghyuck nods, walking to the other and giving him a hug.

“Do you have a first-aid box?”

He asks when Yukhei settles down on the bed. The boy nods, pointing at the bedside drawer on the other side.

“Do you mind?”

Donghyuck asks as he pours the disinfectant on the cotton. Yukhei shakes his head.

He stays incredibly still as Donghyuck cleans and patches his wounds up for him.

“Does anything else hurt?”

Donghyuck asks after his trip downstairs to get ice for the other’s sprained ankles and knuckles.

“I don’t know,” Yukhei says, gaze distant.

Donghyuck’s head is still formulating a reply when Yukhei looks up from his knuckles, “Can we... do you mind lying down with me?”

Donghyuck freezes but nods. He puts the box on the side table and lies down on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. Yukhei does the same, wincing once, alerting Donghyuck to the fact that there are more bruises.

They stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, the lights still on. Donghyuck reaches for the side switch and flips it, the only thing visible being the glow in the dark stickers.

“Will you come to see him tomorrow?”

Yukhei asks, after another long moment.

Donghyuck hesitates.

“I want to see him when he’s all healed. Seeing him when he’s like that seems... seems wrong.”

Yukhei hums.

“Thank you.”

His deep voice is stuffed with gratitude and Donghyuck feels his chest ache.

“Always,” he promises.

He means it.

Yukhei shifts a couple of times. He stops when Donghyuck gropes for his hand and turns to the side, putting his hand over his waist. He feels the taller boy stiffen but then he melts, sighing, as he holds Donghyuck close, his chest snug against the shorter’s back.

Donghyuck wonders if Yukhei can hear the way his chest rattles with the force of his heartbeat.

He doesn’t ponder much about it when he feels Yukhei’s tears soak his nape. He puts a palm over the other’s hands on his waist and squeezes once to let him know that it’s okay.

Donghyuck watches as the sky clears for dawn’s arrival. Ignoring the protests that his mind makes, he gets up, taking Yukhei’s phone and setting an alarm for two hours later and runs a hand over the other’s hair again, the moon piercing sparkling from a sliver of light intruding into the room from the rising sun.

Yukhei looks like he’s time himself. Like Donghyuck’s duty as a Chronicler is to keep him with him just like he keeps all of time behind his eyes.

It’s a realization that is painful. It’s a realization that means so much more than Donghyuck can allow himself to acknowledge and so, Donghyuck shoves it down his throat.

Yukhei is dreaming when Donghyuck leaves, guilt and longing, a distressing combination spreading from his chest.

Donghyuck finds himself standing in a hospital room and sees the kind boy with the soft smile sleep peacefully, the heart monitor next to him beeping steadily and strongly. His eyes roll under his lids and Donghyuck can’t help the curiosity.

He touches the other’s forehead and watches the kind boy’s and awkward boy’s younger versions stand on a bridge, staring at a paper boat sink, a gently flowing stream underneath them.

“Hyung, it sunk.”

Awkward boy says, disappointed.

“Remember how I cut my finger thrice while making it? Maybe it wasn’t meant to sail at all.”

Kind boy replies, smiling.

“Yeah. It hurt hyung. I don’t like it.”

Awkward boy shakes his head even after he says it. Kind boy giggles and Donghyuck takes his hand away, the hospital room replacing the scenic dream.

“I wish you could have seen me too, hyung. I wish you well.”

Donghyuck says, leaving with his head and heart clogged with a conundrum of emotions.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck doesn’t visit the park for a week, the incident having put a lot of things in perspective for him. Yukhei religiously visits, Donghyuck knows because he hides in the second-floor bedroom of the abandoned house just opposite the park.

Yukhei’s limp gets better but his shoulders get heavier for some reason. Every day, he waits for an hour before he leaves to Jungwoo’s hospital. On Wednesday, Yukhei wipes tears from his face and Donghyuck breaks.

On Thursday, the eighth day, Donghyuck finally steps foot inside the park. When Yukhei opens the gate and sees him, his gaze widens.

“Where did you go?”

Yukhei asks, voice tired and thick with emotion.

“My dad grounded me.”

And then it’s falling back to the rhythm they are familiar with, all over again.

The questions will inevitably rise but until then, Donghyuck tells himself, until then, let this be.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

It all starts to fall apart the month after. Donghyuck _sees_ it happen just as his destiny prescribes. It’s slow but the cracks become too many to ignore just like that.

Yukhei, despite having known him for months, never asks him about his camera until one fateful day in spring. Donghyuck lets the lies slip through his teeth with the ease of an artist painting for others rather than himself.

The tall boy brings his Polaroid camera about a week later, when the flowers in the park are in full bloom and asks Donghyuck to take a picture with him. Donghyuck tries to snark his way out of it and gets angry when Yukhei doesn’t stop.

That becomes crack number one.

Yukhei never brings his Polaroid camera to the park again and Donghyuck stupidly thinks that the mirage will stand but it doesn’t because this is in Kubla Khan’s Xanadu; their friendship is a castle built with icy caves at the bottom and sunny domes at the top and ice melts, inevitably, unknowingly.

Yukhei asks him to meet Jungwoo a hundred times; sometimes casual, sometimes hopeful, sometimes insistent and Donghyuck rejects it, always apologetic. Yukhei nods in understanding but Donghyuck watches the struggle inside the tall boy and he links their fingers together in what he hopes is a calming gesture.

That becomes crack number two.

Donghyuck comes to say no to any and all offers from Yukhei to hang outside the park. The Chronicler’s rejection has more to it that the mortal boy doesn’t understand. Donghyuck sees the way Yukhei’s youthful bones scream against the monotony of the deserted park and he watches, helpless.

That becomes crack number three and Donghyuck stops counting altogether as they get closer but at the same time farther away from the constant rejections from Donghyuck.

What hurts Donghyuck is the fact that Yukhei never stops coming, never stops smiling like Donghyuck hung the moon in the sky and never stops looking at him the way he has learned to.

The final crack comes in the form of a confession with a bouquet of blue hyacinths and red tulips and an apology for not getting him sunflower ones. It comes with a familiar boy dressed in a navy blue turtleneck and a black jacket, looking handsome and suave, with the moon on his ears and the galaxy in his eyes.

It comes in the form of a lie disguised as a rejection.

“I’m sorry, Yukhei. I only see you as a friend. I’m so sorry if I lead you on.”

Donghyuck says, holding his heart at gunpoint and asking the heavens and the Divines for a little mercy.

Yukhei leaves with a pained smile, one any mother would feel hurt at seeing and any father would kill to avoid.

But he leaves with a promise to come back in a few days and an apology that won’t stop stumbling out of his mouth until Donghyuck reassures him a million times.

The day after, Donghyuck sits at the bench he shared with Renjun on the sidewalk and catches Jeno and Jaemin walk past him, their hands looped and hearts fated to be together forever.

He gasps when he feels a phantom pain in his chest and a moment passes.

Then, the realization hits him like a bullet does a soldier.

Just say it, his head says. Stop lying to yourself, it insists. Inner Renjun caresses the insides of his heart.

Donghyuck exhales shakily and for a second he’s just a boy who’s in love with another boy.

He isn’t a Chronicler, isn’t a Divine, only a boy in love.

I’m sorry for breaking our promise, Renjun, he thinks.

I’m in love with Yukhei.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Yukhei keeps his promise, trying with all his might to make sure that things stay the same, that their friendship which has never exactly been a stereotypical one stays the same. Donghyuck keeps the pain inside with a bitten tongue and digs little crescents inside his palms when Yukhei apologizes for brushing against him or sitting close to him or just anything that requires him looking at Donghyuck a bit too long.

“We need to establish some boundaries,” Yukhei had declared the day he returned and Donghyuck hates seeing him drive the other to a corner but consoles himself saying that there’s no possible future where this ends well.

The playful banter and conversations about the future stay the same and Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t know about Yukhei crying in the middle of the night or about the other’s pain at the rejection but Yukhei continues to prove himself to be a gentleman.

And then one day, Donghyuck decides that he has to stop doing this to the boy he loves.

So, the Chronicler slowly pulls away from the other boy, subtly, slowly fading away from the other’s life, intending on making that day come to reality when Yukhei doesn’t remember a Donghyuck anymore.

It feels like he is erasing himself from existence but he does it anyway because he is in love and people sacrifice so much for love. If this is the one thing he can give to Yukhei, then so be it.

It hurts. It feels like drowning.

Renjun’s words become Donghyuck’s emotions but for once, he cannot bring himself to regret, to hate the fact that he loves Yukhei.

He thinks his plan is progressing well but then Yukhei calls him out one day.

“I can see what you’re doing, Hyuck. Please don’t.”

Yukhei pleads.

“What am I doing?”

He asks, feigning ignorance.

“You’re pushing me away.”

Donghyuck snorts. Yukhei doesn’t join him.

“I am not.”

Yukhei shakes his head in firm denial.

“I am in love. I’m not dumb to be incapable of taking a hint.”

Donghyuck hates how Yukhei doesn’t use past tense, doesn’t hide away his feelings, hates how he just tells him the truth every single damn time, no dilution, no distortion involved.

It’s beyond Donghyuck’s ability to even consider being this frank, this honest.

Donghyuck opens his mouth to refute the statement with some illogical reason again but Yukhei has more to say.

“Why do you stay here for so long? Why do you always turn down my offers to meet Jungwoo hyung? Why do you never let me take a picture with you? Why have I never seen your dad? Why do you stay here even during the day and lie to me about it later? Why have I never seen you eat? Why do you hold that goddamned camera like your life depends on it, like it’s somehow your duty to record everything? Why have I never seen you talk to anyone except me? Why, Donghyuck, do you lie to me?”

Yukhei’s chest heaves from the effort and Donghyuck catches the way his voice cracks as he utters his name.

Donghyuck’s lies splinter with every question he hears and he realizes that Yukhei has won this time.

Truth prevails, his snarky self tells him.

Donghyuck gets up, not uttering a word and takes a deep breath before he steps away.

“Wait.”

Yukhei’s voice is tired when he says it. It’s not the first time he’s heard the word in the past few months. Donghyuck has seen the same word change from the cheeriest tone to this, this sick and weak replica of the boisterous, warm tone it used to be.

The windows of Donghyuck’s mind palace shatter into smithereens. His feet bleed as he walks over them trying to find an answer that will pacify Yukhei’s mounting worry.

“I can’t.” Donghyuck makes sure that he sounds determined even if his insides twist like someone is demonstrating how a tornado works at the way the hope in the other’s sparkling eyes fades a bit.

“Why not?” He knows Yukhei is disappointed.

And then, Donghyuck sinks the lies in holy water and lets his mouth say the truth for once.

“Because I’m a Chronicler.”

Yukhei blinks, the smile on his face disappearing in the split second it takes him to do so, as if he realizes something at that exact moment.

Donghyuck waits for a witty retort or a broken whisper, just anything even if all he wants is to turn and walk away. But somehow, the way whatever realization has befallen the taller man has made the usual bright, chatterbox shut himself down scares him.

For the first time in forever, a Chronicler, the invincible friend of the chariot called time, Donghyuck, is scared that their friendship, relationship, whatever it is has been threatened by something inside Yukhei’s head even if all he has done for the past few days is push himself away from the taller boy.

He wonders if he should explain what being a Chronicler means, if Yukhei even understands that this friendship, this love was never meant to be.

That night, Donghyuck walks away last because, for the first time since the first time they met, it is Yukhei who turns his back on him and walks away, pedalling his bike in a hurry, face wan and posture tense.

Donghyuck realizes that it isn’t the best feeling in the world to watch someone walk away first. He throws a soft apology to the air meant for a certain Chinese boy and watches it crumble to the wet grass like a rain drop that has lost its way.

He hopes that their chapter ends there on a cold winter day.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck finds himself standing in front of Johnny’s place at a little after four in the morning, two days later. He knocks lightly and almost hopes that Johnny isn’t there.

It is Taeyong who opens the door, face screaming perfection and a blush high on his cheeks. The smile on his face fades away as he sees Donghyuck.

“Oh baby, what happened?”

Taeyong asks, gathering him in his bony arms, squishing his face to his chest, uncaring of how Donghyuck is soaked from head to toe from the snow outside.

“Yongie, is that Donghy...” Johnny trails off, freezing at the sight, eyes softening.

When Taeyong lets him go, Donghyuck makes a beeline straight to Johnny, hugging him and sobbing into his chest, one hand fisted on his knitted sweater.

“I love him. I love him, hyung,” Donghyuck hiccups out, feeling the gaping wound in his chest wail in pain.

Johnny presses a soft kiss on his hair and pulls away, entwining their fingers together, dragging Donghyuck to the couch.

“I was right then,” Johnny states, voice giving nothing away, gaze flicking to Taeyong before it returns to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck gives him a look of confusion.

Then, he understands.

“You knew. Both of you. You knew.”

He hates the way his voice sounds accusatory as if he wasn’t the one who lied to them for over nine months, as if he has any right to ever accuse them of the pain he feels.

“It took Johnny a month. I had a vision.”

Taeyong says, voice soft, like he’s talking to an injured animal.

“Why didn’t you stop me? I was putting our secret in danger. You could have just stopped me, hyung,” Donghyuck says, voice cracking and coming out airy as he finds it hard to vocalize his thoughts.

“He didn’t mean any harm, not to you, not to us. Even now, he doesn’t. He’s a pure soul. What’s happening is rare but it’s not the first time.” Johnny says, gaze intense but relaxed.

“He loves you, Donghyuck,” Taeyong whispers affectionately after a second and new tears slide down Donghyuck’s cheeks.

“I do too but he ran away today. He walked away from me and it hurt. It hurt so bad. He’s not gonna come back.”

Donghyuck says, the last words uttered more to himself than to his brothers.

“Who says? You don’t get to decide that for him. You didn’t want him to remember you, right? Now, why do you care if he leaves?” Johnny says, voice slightly raising but Taeyong’s hand on his thigh stops him from proceeding further.

“He’s gonna come back. Just make sure to love him right.” Taeyong’s eyes speak of more than just those words and Donghyuck shivers a little inside.

Donghyuck stares at Taeyong with wide eyes, finding relief in the way the other has pretty much promised him that all he has to do is wait for Yukhei to return in his own time.

“Let Time run its course,” Johnny whispers as he hugs Donghyuck goodbye.

Somehow it feels ominous and unsettling.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck patiently awaits the arrival of a tall boy with a neon-decorated bike. Yukhei doesn’t make him wait for too long.

“Explain.”

Yukhei says, eyes sad but inviting.

So Donghyuck does. He explains about how Divines work, how he has seen the world shift over the years, how he has never met a mortal who was able to see him, how he was lying when he rejected Yukhei.

He explains about the nights spent in Yukhei’s porch, about watching him from the window of the house opposite the park, about seeing Jungwoo in the hospital, about trying to push Yukhei away but only succeeding in failing both himself and the taller boy.

He explains in not so many words about how he really wishes Yukhei will stay despite all the pain that it will inevitably bring but he dare not phrase it openly because a part of him wishes that Yukhei would leave for his own good.

“I needed some time to think this through,” Yukhei says, his huge hands fiddling with Donghyuck’s camera for a few tense moments, “but if this was the detail holding you back from loving me, then I need you to know that I don’t give a fuck about you being a Chronicler. I don’t care that the people in my life will never see you. I don’t care that we can’t act like other people. I don’t care that our relationship will be a subversion from the stereotypical,” Yukhei declares with determination.

“It’s nice to hear that but it’s not as easy as you think, Yukhei. You’ll never be able to talk to your hyung or your parents about me. You’ll grow old and I’ll stay the same. I’ll forever look like a nineteen-year-old but time will be on your toes and one day...” Donghyuck trails off, getting more agitated by the moment because he had pictured the conversation going in a different path. However, he cannot bring himself to stop because he needs Yukhei to know what this relationship would entail, about what is at stake, about the sacrifices he’ll have to make.

Yukhei puts the camera down and cups his cheeks with his hands, the corners of his lips curving up, eyes screaming nothing but love to him and finishes what Donghyuck couldn’t bring himself to utter, “... and one day, I’ll die and you’ll still be here but all you’ll have will be my memories.”

Donghyuck lets his arms wind around Yukhei as he cries, for the future, for the time when his favourite boy won’t breathe anymore.

“But for now,” Yukhei says into his ear, his deep voice causing the hair on Donghyuck’s body to rise up, “for now, you have me. Let’s not waste any more time, Donghyuck. Please.”

Donghyuck nods against his chest, wet eyelashes fluttering against the warmth radiating from where Yukhei’s heart pounds in fear and anticipation and love, so much, all for Donghyuck.

“I love you, Yukhei.”

Donghyuck says, pulling away from his chest, looking him in the eye. He leans in and presses his lips to the corner of Yukhei’s mouth. Yukhei’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears and he cradles Donghyuck’s cheeks with his hands and presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

In winter, their spring begins and Donghyuck sighs in happiness, grateful for the present knowing that he’ll gain nothing from dwelling in a future that hasn’t happened yet.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Yukhei tries his best to show Donghyuck the parts of his life that he has never seen, most of their interactions having taken place in the park which had become their place. Their evening meet-ups move to the nights at Donghyuck’s request so that Yukhei has time to rest and carry on with his life like normal. Donghyuck even decides a curfew so that Yukhei doesn’t spend too much time on him.

Yukhei likes surprising Donghyuck with sudden trips to random places. He lies and borrows his father’s car and takes Donghyuck to the Han River in the night twice. Donghyuck considers adding the river to his list of most loved places. They stay quiet when people pass by but otherwise, enjoy those treasured moments to the fullest.

Good days happen a lot. There are bad days too but the good erases the bad like it’s nothing and Donghyuck breathes a little easier and falls in love a little more, Yukhei exceeding his non-existent expectations every time.

Being Yukhei’s significant other is not much different than being his friend. There is a lot of flirting and teasing involved, a lot of cheek kisses and hugs and lying on each other’s laps. There are also the weekends when Donghyuck sleeps over in the night, the day time dedicated to Jungwoo.

Donghyuck doesn’t intrude on their bonding time, knowing that a part of Yukhei is intensely disappointed and distressed about how he can never talk to his best friend about Donghyuck. Even if Donghyuck were to be present during their conversations, it’s not like Jungwoo would see him.

They don’t talk much about it either, because Yukhei gets visibly stressed and it takes a little time for Donghyuck to pull him back.

And then one day, just like that, Yukhei rides to the park with a tall boy with soft midnight-blue hair on the back seat.

Donghyuck springs up to his feet in a hurry. Yukhei gestures for Jungwoo to walk along and when they reach near him, Donghyuck looks at them with utter confusion, Yukhei only smiles reassuringly.

And Donghyuck knows that Jungwoo knows.

Jungwoo looks in Donghyuck’s vague direction before his eyes zoom completely on him. The Chronicler feels a bit surprised at the other for having figured out where he is without feeling, much less seeing him.

“I’m Jungwoo. It’s nice to meet you, Donghyuck. Thank you for loving Yukhei.”

Jungwoo says, voice perhaps the softest Donghyuck has ever heard in a few centuries, and exuding a kind of calm so uncharacteristic of the boy he is the best friend of.

What follows is a series of Yukhei repeating whatever Donghyuck says in response to Jungwoo’s questions and replies. It’s stressful and tiring but Donghyuck values the few moments they share as a trio and hopes that they can do it again soon.

Donghyuck finds himself admiring the way Jungwoo is so mild-mannered yet never seems to hesitate before saying what’s on his mind and the Chronicler can immediately tell that it is Yukhei’s influence.

Donghyuck wishes that things had worked out better for Jungwoo because he _sees_ and _knows_ that he deserves it. He silently promises to yell at Yuta the next time he sees him on behalf of Jungwoo.

What also catches his attention is the way Jungwoo seems like he is trying to somehow force himself to capture these moments, like he sees an expiry date coming soon but has come to terms with it. It’s a complete contrast to how carelessly free Yukhei is with Donghyuck.

Donghyuck sees a hint of sadness and a lot of happiness when Jungwoo looks at Yukhei. It would have made him jealous had he seen them with no context; knowing nothing about how they’re as close as brothers, nothing about how they literally saved each other but Donghyuck isn’t ignorant about these things and so, he is just left pondering about the reasons behind the faint lining of sadness and pain, having figured out that it isn’t his past relationship but something related to Yukhei itself.

Donghyuck keeps his camera on.

When they leave in the night, Yukhei hurries to the bike, Jungwoo following him but with slower steps, as if he’s worried that the earth beneath his feet would hurt if he steps a little harder than he does.

Jungwoo is one of Creator’s favourite, Donghyuck realizes. He sees it in the way the other glows, more than the humans he sees daily, even more than Yukhei himself who basically carries a halo on his head. Jungwoo is a young soul but a wise one. Donghyuck wishes nothing but all the good things in life for him.

Jungwoo turns and suddenly bends down, untying both his shoelaces and then, proceeds to tie them slowly. Donghyuck frowns at the action.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I wish I could see you but I’m not that blessed. I’m glad Yukhei has you. He only had me and when I was down you picked his mood back up. I can never thank you enough for that. Donghyuck, love him. Keep him happy. Please. He only has so much time.”

Jungwoo says, a single tear travelling down the pale skin of his face. He wipes them away when Yukhei shouts at him to hurry up and he walks away but not without smiling right at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck throws whispers of gratitude to the cool breeze for a kind boy who took care of Yukhei when he needed it the most.

The lines about time, however, ring in Donghyuck’s memory vaults.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Their first kiss happens a week later when it is raining. Yukhei chases him around the park like a wet dog. They’re both drenched when Donghyuck picks out the small leaf stuck in Yukhei’s hair, standing on the tips of his toes, supporting himself with a hand splayed flat on the other boy’s chest.

When Donghyuck flattens his feet and looks up, Yukhei looks into his eyes with water dripping down and blurring his vision. Donghyuck blinks because suddenly there’s so much _want_ in Yukhei’s intense gaze.

“Hyuck, can I kiss you?”

Yukhei asks, licking his lips, the rain bearing down mercilessly on them.

Donghyuck nods, gasping when Yukhei leans down and cups his cheek with one hand, the other going around his waist. He stares at him for another second and lets his own hands go around the other’s neck and his back.

Then, Yukhei’s soft and wet lips touch his, gentle and hesitant at first before he tilts his face and swallows Donghyuck whole. Donghyuck’s toes curl in his shoes and he moans but he tries to give back as good as he gets, nails raking down the other’s back.

The difference in the temperatures, the freezing cold drops of rain and the blazing warmth where their mouths meet is almost unbearable for Donghyuck and he breaks apart for some air. Donghyuck doesn’t open up for Yukhei when they dive right back into each other, teasing the taller as he tries to coax his mouth open. When Donghyuck doesn’t give in, Yukhei growls, a low throaty sound travelling right down to Donghyuck’s toes, making Donghyuck giggle into his mouth, his hand travelling from Yukhei’s neck to his moon piercings.

Yukhei growls again, this time playful when Donghyuck plays with the tiny crescent moon with his fingers.

When they finally pull away, they’re both heaving for breath.

And when they both blush with the initial rush fading into shyness, Donghyuck realizes that even Chroniclers cannot beat the euphoric rush that comes with kissing. Neither can they resist it when a certain Wong Yukhei’s lips meld with theirs even after the rain is over.

Or in the days that follow.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

As the skies turn cloudier, Donghyuck feels tendrils of irrational fear clutch his insides and twist it. Every day feels like a blessing until Donghyuck can focus on the present no more, his all-seeing eyes haunting him with reels of all the terrible things he’s seen so far.

Yukhei notices, knowing exactly what Donghyuck fears most and tries to get him out of that headspace. Donghyuck pretends that he moves on but he never does.

Every day feels like a giant clock ticking down, a sandcastle preparing to collapse, a cyclone waiting to cause devastation and the only thing which calms him down becomes Yukhei.

Not that it is a surprise.

Donghyuck tries to reach out to the Divines he knows, everyone either feigning ignorance or talking in cryptic messages Donghyuck is never able to figure out.

“No matter what you do, you can’t stop it,” Johnny tells him one evening, a longing look thrown to the setting sun, smiling small when Taeyong comes and stands next to him.

Donghyuck nearly asks him to not remind him of the inevitable. He might get seventy more years at most with Yukhei. He’s counting down the days one by one and that itself is heartbreaking enough. He doesn’t need his friends and brothers to add insult to his injury.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck is a Chronicler. He is a Divine. He is as invisible to humans as are reapers and spirits. He keeps track of time and memory in the physical reality. He is a being created solely for this purpose; to see and to remember but along with all this, they have a sense of precognition, not in the way Fate’s apprentices do but they can feel when things go wrong.

So when Donghyuck feels like all his bones snap all at once one night, the storm making the park’s pond overflow, an hour or two after Yukhei goes home, Donghyuck runs, clutching his camera to his chest, across alleys and past buildings, feet threatening to give up on him when he’s supposed to have endurance rivalling a Reaper’s.

He lets his feet take him where it wants to, the raindrops beating down on him like miniature bullets. When he does stop, it takes him a moment to comprehend what is going on.

A familiar bike lies on the ground in front of Donghyuck, bent at an angle in the front, one of the wheels glowing neon green and pink far away from having rolled over. The handles glow softly, the stickers having lost colour from constantly braving the weather.

A little to the left lies the love of Donghyuck’s Divine life, bleeding out, choking on his blood, _dying_ , his best friend poking his phone with a shaking hand, another holding Yukhei’s tight, tears mixing with the night’s glacier-like downpour.

Donghyuck’s camera slips from his hand and he rushes to Yukhei.

“Yukhei, hey, hey, hey, I’m here. Hey, don’t close your eyes.”

Donghyuck’s voice splinters, Yukhei staring at the night sky for a second longer before he turns his head, wincing, making Donghyuck pull him to his lap gently, a steady flow of blood leaking from his mouth.

Jungwoo stares at Yukhei with shaking hands and wide eyes.

“Hyuck is...” Yukhei coughs, wincing again, “here, hyung.”

Jungwoo sobs, then nods, hands covering his mouth as he kneels next to Yukhei.

Yukhei’s eyelids shut for a second.

Donghyuck thought he had at least seventy years with him, but the Creator is cruel, he didn’t even give him seven days after his conversation with Johnny.

“Yukhei.. please... keep your eyes open, baby. Please.”

Donghyuck says, leaning in close and hunching over the other to make sure the rain doesn’t fall squarely on his face.

“I’m sorry... I...lo...love you,” Yukhei gurgles on his own blood, Donghyuck wishes he never heard it, his insides twisting like a rag being squeezed off the water, “...I love you so much.”

“Don’t you dare,” Donghyuck says, aiming to sound angry but ending up sounding like he’s pleading, leaning down and kissing Yukhei’s forehead, the smell of iron clouding his heightened senses.

“Don’t be... an...angry at me, Hyuck, I’m...” Donghyuck hushes him with a finger and holds Yukhei’s hand with one of his, smoothing his hair back, feeling Yukhei’s warm blood soak through his jeans.

“I’m not angry. I swear I am not. I love you, Yukhei. I love you. I love you so much. Please don’t leave. I love you. I need you here. I am not prepared for this. I can’t.... don’t do this to me... please... keep your eyes open until the medics get here. That’s all you gotta do, baby. Please.”

Donghyuck sobs out, letting the words run out because somehow, he knows that Yukhei is dying and that tonight is the last time he’ll see him. Yukhei’s hand which is not held in Donghyuck’s hold, reaches for Donghyuck’s face, touching it once before it stretches towards Jungwoo who immediately holds onto it.

“I’m sorry,” He stutters out to Jungwoo who breaks down into sobs again, joining Donghyuck’s pained yet silent cries.

“Wong Yukhei, don’t you dare!” Donghyuck shouts when Yukhei closes his eyes.

Yukhei blinks his eyes open again, eyeballs threatening to roll back to his head.

“It doesn’t... hurt anymore. I... love you... love you both.”

He says, choking on his blood again as he finishes speaking. The moon piercing is bloody and stained.

Donghyuck stays frozen for a second. Yukhei’s hand goes limp in his hand. Donghyuck and Jungwoo scream his name at the same time, one piercing through the Earth, the other the Heavens.

Mark gives Donghyuck a look of apology and asks him to look away as he takes Yukhei’s soul away.

Wong Yukhei dies on a rainy night with two of the people he loves most holding both his hands, his favourite bike just a few feet away from him, his heartbeat slowing before stilling completely and the sight of two boys and a two-star constellation burned to the back of his mind.

Wong Yukhei dies on a rainy night and kills Donghyuck with him.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

Donghyuck remembers gently lifting Yukhei off of his lap and laying him on the bloody asphalt, the rain still going hard. He remembers the medics rushing out of an ambulance exactly fourteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds after Yukhei takes his last breath. He remembers tucking his knees close to his chest and watching Jungwoo cry out in pain, his pale hands smoothing Yukhei’s hair back like Donghyuck’s tan ones had before.

Donghyuck remembers standing in a black suit for the funeral of the one boy he came to love in all his time on Earth. He remembers Jungwoo’s speech, word by word, every sob and every pause engraved to his memory. He remembers the way lilies and carnations, pure and white and glowing just like Yukhei was, covered the black casket. He remembers watching Jeno and Jaemin hold two younger boys to their chests as they cried in celebration of Yukhei’s existence, in mourning of Yukhei’s death.

Donghyuck remembers staying in the graveyard for a month. He remembers losing a part of him, perhaps the best one.

He returns to the park exactly a month later, thoughts of sleep getting more tempting by the day.

Evening comes and goes and brings nothing except more reasons as to why the deep chasm in his chest should never close.

Johnny’s visits do nothing but make Donghyuck utter the first words in a while.

“You were right,” Donghyuck says with a blank look, “No matter what I do, I can’t stop it.”

Johnny tells him that Taeyong knew.

“I figured,” Donghyuck says, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away from Johnny.

When he returns after a few days, he finds his camera under the bench.

“Grieve all you want but remember what he would have wanted. – Johnny”

The note goes into his chest pocket, the words, to his soul.

Several months later, Donghyuck is sitting in the park, eyes closed, living a memory of Yukhei again when Jungwoo opens the gate and enters.

He sits on the bench, right where Yukhei used to and leans back, tears flowing seconds later. Donghyuck tries to swallow down tears but he has always had weak self-control and so, he cries along with Jungwoo.

They cry for hours, sharing their grief, remembering the loud, awkward boy with the sunshine smile and light sienna skin.

“Donghyuck, if you’re here, you need to know something.” Jungwoo says, swallowing the clog in his throat.

“He knew.”

Donghyuck whips his head to look at Jungwoo.

“He knew,” Jungwoo repeats.

“He went to see a woman who is said to be a spiritual medium, a clairvoyant apparently, after you told him you were a Chronicler. She told him something. He knew what he was getting into. When he told me, he told me all of it. That’s why I said what I said the first time I came here. There’s nothing you could have done. He has always been a stubborn boy,” Jungwoo smiles fondly, eyes pained.

“But he loved you, he loved you so much, this I know, so if you’re here and you’re listening, please be alright. There’s nothing else he would have wished for.”

Donghyuck cannot help it so he gathers all the energy from the nature around him and touches Jungwoo, playing him a reel in his mind, “Thank you but what did she say?”

Jungwoo gasps, before he calms down.

“The more you give him, the less you have. The more he loves you, the less you live.”

The more time Yukhei gave Donghyuck, the less he had. The more Donghyuck loves him, the less Yukhei lived.

Donghyuck’s nails dig into his palms in unveiled agony.

Jungwoo stays till midnight and leaves, waving a hand in the night air, walking out of Donghyuck’s life with a promise to not return for a while.

Maybe it’s best that way.

 

⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

A year goes by painfully and disturbingly slow and Donghyuck finds himself standing in front of Yukhei’s grave. The taller boy’s parents had visited earlier in the day, leaving sunflowers and white roses for their son.

Jungwoo visits in the afternoon, one hand looped with a slightly taller man with a bunny-face, his other hand holding a bouquet of lilacs.

“This is Doyoung hyung and he’s my boyfriend. Hyung, this is Yukhei, my dongsaeng.”

Jungwoo’s smile is genuine and Donghyuck finds himself smiling for the first time in a long time. Jungwoo babbles on about his boyfriend and his life to Yukhei’s grave with a voice filled with fondness and longing.

Donghyuck glares at Doyoung and walks over, certain that Yukhei would have wanted him to do this on his behalf. He might not have known Jungwoo for long but he is Yukhei’s best friend and with him gone, it is his duty to make sure that the other does not get hurt again.

Donghyuck touches the other man with his hand.

And all he sees is an office desk, another man with a similar face, a grumpy cat and infinite reels of Jungwoo smiling and crying and cooking and doing everything known to man.

They’re sickeningly in love.

Donghyuck realizes, three parts-glad, one part-bitter.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to find Johnny and Taeyong with smiles on their faces. He adjusts his camera’s strap and tries to be civil.

“Why are you here, hyung?”

Donghyuck asks, drawing his jealous gaze away from Doyoung kissing Jungwoo on his forehead.

“We want to introduce you to the new Reaper in the locality.”

Donghyuck groans in frustration.

“Be nice,” Taeyong says, scolding.

“Come on,” Johnny waves at someone.

Donghyuck looks at the sky, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

“Woof, Garfield!”

A voice yells at him.

Donghyuck snaps his gaze in the direction of the voice and sees a boy, a very tall one, with the crescent moon on his ears and galaxy in his eyes, a boy with a smile that makes him look like a Cheshire cat and a heart that pours infinite love for everyone.

A boy Donghyuck loves and has watched die.

His beloved. His everything. His infinity and after. Wong Yukhei.

Have you ever ran into the arms of someone who loves you?

If you haven’t, Donghyuck highly recommends it.

You know why?

Because it feels like you’re running to your own type of forever.

It’s cheesy as fuck, believe him, he knows, but it’s true.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos keep me warm in the cold!
> 
> Hit me up on my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Crimsun) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_Crimsun_)


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